


Low Impulse Control

by frozenorange



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: Dirty Thoughts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 13:46:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7441510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenorange/pseuds/frozenorange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassidy's low impulse control period is far from over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Low Impulse Control

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "I'd be forever grateful if you write what's going through Cass mind while they're in their underwear..."

While ten in the morning isn't really too early for a chilled beer, it's definitely too early for this. This being the sexy Preacher strolling around his kitchen in nothing but his underwear.

To an extent, Cassidy gets it. They're both covered in blood, and they can't shower until the washing machine is done with its load, which probably means they have about one hour with nothing to do but to well, talk and drink beer. So it's pretty much like any other evening he's spent at the church, only that this one time there's a considerably less amount of clothes involved. 

The vampire manages to do a good job at not looking down for a good three minutes, until eventually, Jesse walks over to the fridge to get two beers for them, and Cassidy's eyes inevitably fall down on the grey fabric. And damn. He can't see the front, no, just his back for now. Tight grey boxers hugging perfectly shaped ass cheeks, and Cassidy can't help but wonder just how firm they must feel in his hands. And just like that he's gone. 

Gone because now he's seen much more of the preacher than what he might have imagined. There's no stopping the dirty thoughts now, and _that's not even the best bit yet_ , a small voice in his head tells him. Because he knows, once he turns around and Cassidy gets a chance to get a good look at what the man's packing, he knows that's it. 

Cassidy takes the beer the other man's offering, his eyes snapping up quickly right before he can get caught staring. He chats away with the preacher, trying to distract himself. The man takes one long chug of beer, head tilting back as his throat works around the liquid, swallowing quickly to allow more beer to be drunk. Cassidy's knuckles turn white around the surface's edge as he imagines that throat swallowing around something way different than beer. The vampire now has quite a good imagine for his wank bank, and while they have had drinks together before, he was never sober enough to fully enjoy the experience. How nice it would feel to have the preacher kneeling down in front of him, lips stretched around his shaft as Cassidy thrusts deep into his throat, as deep as it goes, knowing far too well how he would look swallowing his seed. 

He's snapped out from his sinful thoughts the minute Jesse kicks the washing machine, jolting up on the table as if waken by a dream. His eyes now travel up the man's spine, brows furrowing at the canvas of ink and scars that he didn't expect they'd be there. Even if Jesse had made it clear that his past has been unconventional for a man of God, Cassidy definitely didn't expect the scars. He doesn't ask about them, just wonders about the tattoos, forcing himself to look at the man in the eyes, because right there, just an inch below lies a sight Cassidy isn't ready for just yet. 

The preacher's witty remark about Cassidy's ink is lost as the man sits on the table opposite from him, legs slightly parted, inviting Cassidy to take a good look. From what he can see, he's well endowed down there, more than how he would have imagined, had he spent time thinking about the preacher naked. Not that he had, of course. Nope. He could just stand up right now, cover the few steps that separate them and run his hands all over that naked chest, the hand holding the bottle loosely wrapped around the man's neck as his other one runs down his chest, all the way to that offending fabric. He would grope the man once through the garment, just one good squeeze to get them both interested, and then sneak his hand past the waistband, slender fingers wrapping around the man's erection and just stroking him, nice and slow. Cassidy imagines how the preacher would react to it, all those soft gasps and broken moans, the man thrusting up into his grip as the vampire brings him close to his orgasm, close enough for him to beg. Maybe he would even get the preacher to cry for more, imploring the vampire to fuck him.

And damn, he would. Grip onto the preacher's hips as he rides him, Cassidy can just picture himself thrusting up to meet the man's thrusts, working Jesse with one hand just so they could come together, the clenching of the preacher's orgasm pushing him right over the edge. And fuck, he's stared one minute too long, just enough that Jesse is looking at him expecting a reply to whatever it is he's asked.

Right, his tattoos. 

"I went through a period of low impulse control," he shrugs it off, like it's no big deal.

Jesse smirks, raising one eyebrow as he teases, knowingly. He might be a man of God, but that doesn't make him clueless. "Thank God that's over with," he retorts, and Cassidy knows, he knows what the man means, and no, he won't give in. He won't stand up, he won't give in to his impulses, despite how much he wants to taste the man's blood or his come, he won't move from his seating spot. He runs his tongue over chapped lips, watching, to his surprise, Jesse placing his bottle on the tabletop as he hops down from it, slowly moving towards him. 

And maybe Cassidy's low impulse control phase is over, but the preacher's isn't.

"Yeah."

**Author's Note:**

> Keep the prompts coming. Send them [ here. ](http://jesseccuster.tumblr.com/ask)


End file.
